Nocturne
by Ekai Ungson
Summary: He thrives in the night. She tries to shy away from it. They will meet in the gray, where all is uncertain... but neutral.
1. Flavor of the Week

****

Nocturne

by Ekai Ungson

legality: CLAMP/Kodansha owns Card Captor Sakura. Characters used without permission.

For Chelle, Ciircee, and Varon. ^-^

---------------------------------------------------

The night was alive in this part of town, where bright lights and loud music reigned supreme in a crowd of half-drunk, half-drugged partygoers or 'trippers' as they liked to call themselves. The night was alive with the techno noise from the speakers, from the hypnotic turns of the neon lights. The night was alive in the gyrating bodies of young men and women from all walks and states of life. Here, time did not flow, neither did it pass. It remained frozen. The sun neither rose nor set. The difference between night and day did not exist. To these desperate people, the only things that mattered were the darkness and the occasional flashes of light, and how much fun they could squeeze into the eternity that was a few hours short of bliss.

The air smelled of alcohol, perfume, sweat. It held the tension released from the dancing crowd, the essence the endlessness the partyhoppers lived for. Stomp to the beat. Step to the groove.

In the heart of it all, a man sat, scanning the crowds, a beer in his left hand, a girl in his right. He took a swig of the drink, feeling it go to his head, and surveyed the place again like a king looking over his constituents. He looked perfectly at home in black leather and hot pants. He looked perfectly comfortable amid the overcrowded place and pulsating music.

Against all the fast gestures, one movement caught his eye. A girl was making her way slowly, gracefully across the thick crowd. She wasn't dancing, she was merely walking, slowly, might he add, which was why she stood out from everyone else. She moved through the throng with a sort of practiced coolness that made him all the more intrigued. From his perch at the second floor, he stared.

The young man looked at her face.

She caught his eye and smiled coyly before disappearing further into the gyrating bodies and the darkness.

--Uno: Flavor of the Week—

Hiiragizawa Eriol could barely open his eyes, much less move. His head was throbbing painfully and he felt a strong sort of nausea come on. Maybe he'd had one cocktail too many.

"Bullshit," he muttered. His hand flew to his forehead in an attempt to stave the pain. "Bullshit," he repeated with more force this time. 

The woman beside him stirred, covered only by a sheet. "What's wrong, lover?"

He stared at her and tried to rack his befuddled brain into functioning. What was her name again? Then he remembered that he never asked anyway. "Nasty hangover, baby. Can you make it home alone?"

The girl kissed him before rising. "No problem."

They were all Baby, Honey, Darling, Girl. He'd lost track and count. It didn't matter, really. Not one of them had ever complained. Well, not that they could— he never saw them again after one night. 

The girl finished putting her clothes on and leaned in for another kiss. "Sure you're not up for another bout?"

He smirked. "Believe me, the spirit is willing."

"I'll see you tonight, then," she replied as she let herself out.

__

I sincerely doubt that, he thought as he heard the door close. He fell back into his pillows, head still pulsing. Eriol muttered a series of expletives. Damned alcohol side effects. He really ought to cut down. For his own safety.

He blacked out.

~*~

When he woke up five hours later, the sun was high in the sky and traffic outside was brewing. 

****

The light on his answering machine was blinking rapidly, indicating messages. He fixed himself a pot of coffee and took two aspirins, watching the world as it went by. This was his life, a never-ending series of parties, an endless cycle of booze at night and hangovers in the morning. He had inherited enough money to indulge and he saw no need to work. He went from day to day with only one objective in mind: To Have Fun.

And he did. He practically owned the night and everything that came with it. The invitations for parties and soirees never stopped coming in. 

He was never alone, because he was always surrounded by people. Propositions from women AND men never stopped pouring in. As such, he bedded someone different every night.

But he found himself unable to engage in a serious relationship. Some girl struck his fancy and held it only for a couple of days. At most. He couldn't attach himself to anyone for any longer to get to know them. He lost interest easily and changed girlfriends like clothes. In this, he was named Most Elusive AND Most Eligible Bachelor for three years in a row.

Who wouldn't want him? He was rich and handsome. 

They were all Baby, Honey, Darling. He never bothered with names. He never got long enough to call them by their first names.

Never close enough to know them and let them know him.

He pushed the button on his phone and somebody's voice filled the room. 

"Eriol? We've got a bash tonight. Somewhere out in the pier? If you wanna come along just drive up, it'll be at warehouse 6. See ya."

Eriol pushed the pause button just as someone from below buzzed.

"Yep?" he asked the intercom.

"It's Kenzo. Lemme up."

Eriol buzzed his friend in and waited. Kenzo entered a few minutes later.

"You look like hell," Kenzo said needlessly.

"Who asked you?" Eriol shot back. "What's up?"

"You've heard about that bash on the pier?"

"Yep, just got the message," Eriol replied. "We're going."

"So. Do you happen to remember the name of that girl you had with you last night?" Kenzo asked.

Eriol turned to him and shook his head slowly. "For the love of all I hold holy—I have NO idea."

Kenzo grinned. "Someday, bro, you're going to find a girl who can rope you down—and you sure as hell are going to remember her name."

Eriol only smiled. _They wish._

~*~

The night was alive in this part of town, the endless, endless night, where the sun neither rose nor set, and only one thing mattered—to forget the world's woes. 

In the heart of it all, a young man stood, swaying to the synchronized beats with two beautiful women. He threw back his head—

And a movement caught his eye. The same one from last night. He froze. 

It was the same girl, the same glorious hair that looked as if it never ended. The same pale skin the quality of expensive pearls. She held a black cardigan over her shoulder, walking across the floor with a demeanor so calm, she exuded ice.

She looked up at him and he caught the color of her eyes. Dark, smoldering violet-blue. He kept staring, never mind that it was a little rude. The world had stopped moving. Everyone in the room was a pleasant blur. Everyone but this creature who smiled at him, as mysteriously as last night, and went on.

Eriol dislodged himself from the grip of the women holding him and went chasing after whoever that dark-haired girl was. He pushed and shoved his way through the crowd, in a manner bordering on desperation.

Too late.

He got to the door and she was gone.

~~~tsuzuku.


	2. Muneca Brava

Nocturne  
by Ekai Ungson

legality: CLAMP/Kodansha owns Card Captor Sakura. Characters used without permission.

For Chelle, Ciircee, and Varon. ^-^

The wind was on her face, on her hair, whipping the wavy strands around. She revved the gas. The motorcycle hurtled forward.

A pair of yellow-tinted goggles covered her violet eyes as she weaved the bike in and out of the back alleys and the city streets. She wasn't wearing a helmet. She thought helmets restrained her freedom.

She was glad for having left the crowded party at the warehouse. The air in that place was suffocating, so she ditched the techno scene for the grit of the open roads. She crossed the next intersection and was soon breezing through the coast view road, where there was a brilliant view of the full moon on the lapping water. She parked on the roadside and vaulted the low wall to get to the restricted' beach. 

As she looked out at the sea, she remembered Blue Eyes, the guy she saw at every single bash she attended. She deduced that he must be a pretty popular guy, always in the middle of everything. Usually it was two females. Actually, one of the dames draped on him tonight was an acquaintance of hers. Poor her. Or him, it really depends. 

She scoffed, laughing. The boy was fine, given. And yep, always in the middle of something. She glanced at her watch. At this hour, he was probably between a woman and a mattress. Or even TWO women, if he went that far. 

She'd seen the look on his eyes when she smiled at him. Those brilliant, disconcerting blue eyes that still smoldered even if he was drunk like hell and bloodshot at that, too. Tsk, there were only a few people who had eyes like that.

She shook her head. The man was a preppie-type rebel. She had no room for him in her mind.

-Dos: Muñeca Brava-

Daidouji Tomoyo fished for her keys in the small purse she held. She found it and held it up triumphantly before she inserted it in the knob and turned.

The apartment was dark when she came in, but comfortably cool which was a relief to her overheated skin. Raves, what was there to rave about? She still couldn't understand how they could conquer such physiological impossibilities like cramming one-hundred and fifty people into one little dance floor. Tomoyo shook her head. Amazing.

That guy was there again. That guy that looked like he was king of all raves. Since Tomoyo first began going to them (or getting dragged to them, which was a more accurate description) she began to notice that he was at every party she went to. In fact, he was probably at every single party thrown in the city. Tomoyo paused. That must get pretty boring.

She began to dress for bed, taking off the red leather and black pants she'd been wearing. Honestly, she didn't know why she let herself be dressed in such torture devices. Parties tended to have too many people breathing in the scarce oxygen in an enclosed space. And too many people all sweating due to the sheer number of people in the area all exuded body heat comparable to a sauna.

_I hate congested spaces, _Tomoyo thought with a toss of her long hair. _Tomorrow, if Aya suggests another bash I will refuse vehemently._

Which, she knew, she would never be able to follow on. 

Tomoyo had begun to go to raves some two years ago, when the underground was still deep underground. It had been at first an insatiable curiosity that had grown into an irresistible sort of addiction.

But there were issues hidden in the flickering neon that she never wanted to face again.

She lay down in bed and stared at the ceiling. Some things she just did not want to think about.

Sleep came, out of exhaustion, if anything else.

~~~~

There was a resounding crash when the alarm blared at six in the morning. Tomoyo groped for the contraption on the side table, still half-asleep, and promptly threw it somewhere far, far away from her.

There was also a noise of someone whooping in surprise before the crash.

Tomoyo opened one eye. "Oh, Aya," she noted absently. "Just got in?"

"Spent the night in heaven," said Aya, her roommate, as she straightened from ducking the projectile Tomoyo had thrown. "I met the most wonderful man last night."

"Can he possibly be more wonderful than the one the other night? Or the night theweek before?" Tomoyo asked, pushing the covers off her. 

Aya only smiled at her.

She sighed. "You know, I'm beginning to think you go to the raves just to find men to eat for breakfast, lunch, and dinner," Tomoyo said as she smoothed her covers and began rummaging for slippers. 

"Why the hell not?" asked Aya, who was now getting into her pyjamas. "You're the one I don't understand, Tomoyo. A lot of men lust after you when you go to those raves. They ask you to dance, you decline. They ask for your number, you decline." Aya cocked her head at Tomoyo. "Are you picky or are you gay?"

Tomoyo stared at Aya and promptly threw a pillow at her. "Aya!"

"Kidding, kidding!" Aya laughed. "But you know, Tomoyo, if you don't accept any offers now, you'll never get—"

"Married?" asked Tomoyo.

"Laid," Aya corrected.

At that, Tomoyo threw another pillow at her roommate, who giggled and went to bed.

Tomoyo sat, silent, staring at Aya as her friend went off to dreamland after a night of 'heaven' as she herself put it. 

Heaven?

One party is the same as the next, as the next is the same with the next. A never ending cycle of techno music and bright neon against the darkness, where the smell of alcohol permeated the hot air, where all those in attendance drowned their pain-- and sometimes cried in the black spaces.

She'd seen that place a thousand times before. The same scenario over and over, people drowning their depression in a sea of muted faces and hoarse voices.

Last night she looked up and faced the eyes of the blue-eyed boy who almost always was there, in the center of them all.

And she asked him, What are you doing here? Are you trying to forget you sorrows, too?

*

On the other side of town, the boy remembered.

And found that he had no answers.

~~~tsuzuku

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Notes: Muneca Brava means 'wild angel'. It'll sound familiar to a few Filipino people. ^-^


	3. Edge

Nocturne

By Ekai Ungson

Legality: Card Captor Sakura copyright CLAMP/Kodansha. Characters used without permission.

For Les, Refe and KyteAura, as part of the Christmas present bonanza. ^-^

Her eyes were the color of amethyst gems, and in the two seconds she'd stared at him he saw a world that he never knew existed within her eyes.

But when he got up and chased after her she had, again, disappeared into thin air.  


__

What are you doing here?

Are you trying to forget your sorrows, too?

Those eyes of hers had spoken to him. He'd never had such an experience before. And it _shook _him.

He had to find this girl. No matter what it took.

-Tres: Edge-

"Nope, man. I don't think I've seen her before."

Eriol turned to Kenzo. "Are you sure? I mean, she's in every single party I go to. Every single one. Long hair, pale skin, violet—"

"—eyes, I know, I know. She's a knockout. Man, if she were really as pretty as you said, I would've known. I know every pretty girl within a five mile radius," Kenzo joked. "Geez, man, you might've dreamed her up or something. You taking anything?"

"I don't do that stuff, Kenzo," Eriol said, rolling his eyes. "It's got bad side effects. And no, I'm pretty damn sure I didn't dream her up. Pretty damn sure. Wait, no, I'm not sure. Wait, I AM sure. Damn it, must be the alcohol. She was real. I don't know."

"Hey, slow down, you might hurt yourself," Kenzo reminded. "You said every single bash you went to?"

Eriol nodded. 

"There's your solution then."

Eriol cocked his head to the side. "What?"

Kenzo shrugged. "You want to find her. She goes to parties. Then throw one and invite everybody. They, in turn, will invite everybody they know and we go from there."

~~~~

"Have you heard? Hiiragizawa Eriol's throwing a party at the pier," Aya said. Tomoyo could see her roommate was trying to sound nonchalant but was clearly excited. 

She looked up. "Who's giving out a party?"

"Hiiragizawa Eriol," Aya repeated.

Tomoyo's expression remained blank.

"Why are you not as excited about this as I am?" asked Aya.

"Who's Hiiragizawa Eriol?" Tomoyo questioned.

Aya gaped at her. Her friend had been going to raves for years and knew not about Hiiragizawa Eriol? This was a travesty! "You don't know who Hiiragizawa Eriol is?"

"Do you not get tired of saying the man's full name all the time? Is he some sort of saint or something?" Tomoyo joked.

Aya didn't take the hint. "Why do you not know who Hiiragizawa Eriol is?"

"Should I?" asked Tomoyo, uninterested.

"Should you?! Should you!?! Hiiragizawa Eriol, like, owns the whole night scene." Tomoyo raised an eyebrow at this. "Well, not OWN own but he pretty much rules every party. You've seen him!"

"I have?" asked Tomoyo thoughtfully.

"Dark hari, blue eyes? Flanked by females?" Aya insisted.

__

Oh, she's talking about Blue Eyes, Tomoyo realized. "Oh. Him."

"Oh?! HIM?!" yelled Aya, as if referring to Hiiragizawa Eriol as just 'oh' and 'him' was something to the effect of sacrilege. 

"What is wrong with you?" Tomoyo questioned. 

"So are you coming or not?" Aya asked instead. "This is going to be the bash of the season."

Tomoyo shrugged. "Look, I don't know…"

"Why are you even pausing to think about this?" Aya screeched.

"Thinking is actually a good thing," Tomoyo reasoned calmly. "I don't like the scene anymore. I'd rather sleep."

"Sleep?!" Aya cried. "Oh, no, sister. If I go you go as well. I'm not letting you miss this. I won't stand for it."

"Why don't you go alone for once?" Tomoyo asked. "We go together but we always leave alone. Or, rather, I leave alone and you leave with some guy."

"I can't," Aya said, dropping her voice. "Not this time. Most of those guys, well, they're scary."

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "Oh, well spotted."

"No, I mean, some of them are outright jerks. Outright dangerous jerks. I'm never afraid when you're there—you tell them off with a finesse I can't even compare to."

"Gee, thanks," Tomoyo replied dryly.

"Come on, come along. I promise you won't get bored this time."

"And why do I sincerely doubt that?" Tomoyo quipped, looking out the window.

~~~~

One can expect a multitude of people at a party thrown by the party king himself. Most of them didn't even know Eriol personally. But they DO know about his reputation. So they gatecrash, hoping to be noticed by the Golden Boy, and taken into his glittering circle.

Tomoyo had wanted to go in basic black. But Aya forced her into wearing red with the black and now she looked properly bright and noticeable. So much for hiding in the shadows tonight.

"You'd disappear in black," Aya had said, to which Tomoyo had replied with "That was the point."

Aya had fussed. "Wear the red beaded blouse. It'll turn a few heads."

Tomoyo had given. It wasn't like she was going to stay long enough to turn enough heads. Honestly, Aya was a madwoman, always trying to fix her up with someone or the other. 

She pulled up in front of the converted warehouse on the pier. She could already hear the techno from inside. Aya pulled off her helmet and bounced happily as she dismounted from Tomoyo's Harley.

"I'll wait for you inside," Aya said before walking off.

Tomoyo nodded and pulled off her own helmet.

A group of guys stopped and stared.

Aya grinned.

Tomoyo parked.

__

I can't believe how I got sucked into this, Tomoyo thought. _I don't even LIKE techno._

And yet, she always found herself gravitating to the hypnosis the music provided.

She walked inside and Aya grabbed her arm. She glanced at her watch. Eleven p.m. Still fairly early. By two a.m. she'd bolt. 

Aya grabbed two drinks from a passing guy and handed one to Tomoyo. Tomoyo surveyed the place. As she did, she saw two guys moving towards them. A few more were following.

Tomoyo felt very, very trapped. This was bound to be a long three hours.

~~~~

Eriol surveyed the floor for Miss Mysterious, but there was no sign of her. Surely she danced?

A girl offered him a beer but he declined. He wanted to be completely sober when he found her. Because if he DID get intoxicated, it would be more likely for him to miss her entirely.

Two hours later and still nada.

Tomoyo had hidden in a corner to avoid being seen. A few keen-eyed guys had spotted her anyway. She waved the next one away and checked her watch. Two fifteen. She turned to Aya, who was dancing in the middle of the floor. She looked perfectly fine. Tomoyo grabbed her coat, ready to bolt.

Eriol was ready to give up. But then a flash of long, dark hair caught his eye. He turned. He stared.

It was definitely her. And he wasn't imagining things. Kenzo was right—she did come. And he wasn't letting her go so easy this time.

Tomoyo was halfway to her bike when she heard approaching footsteps. She turned.

Then she blinked. _Blue Eyes?_

"Hey," the guy greeted.

"Hey," she replied. 

Eriol didn't waste any time. "So have you got a name along with the disappearing act?"

She looked him up and down. "Who wants to know?"

He was taken aback for a second. She didn't know who he was? He extended a hand. "Hiiragizawa Eriol."

She took it. "That's a mouthful. I think I prefer Blue Eyes."

"Blue Eyes?" he repeated in confusion.

She shook her head in silent mirth. "You don't need to know."

Eriol nodded towards the warehouse. "Not staying?"

"Stayed for three hours, Little Boy Blue. I think that accounts for 'staying'." She grinned. "It's not my kind of scene. A friend dragged me."

"The way you were dragged three parties before?"

She shrugged. "Something like that."

"Will you at least stay for one dance?" he asked.

Tomoyo smirked. "I don't dance techno."

Then, as if on cue, the music drastically changed from fast to a slow r & b tune. Tomoyo gaped.

Eriol smiled and held out his hand.

Tomoyo meant to refuse and ride her bike away from the place. But she found herself taking his hand and stepping into his arms.

It registered faintly at the back of her mind that they looked absolutely ridiculous, slow dancing in a dark parking lot beside a Harley. But it didn't remain.

And then the song ended. 

Tomoyo opened her eyes and looked into her partner's blue ones. Startling, disconcerting blue.

And she stepped out of his grasp. 

She mounted the bike and revved the engine.

"Wait!" Blue Eyes cried over the din. "I haven't got your name!"

She grabbed her helmet. "People call me Tomoyo," she said as she put the helmet on. Then she rode away from the pier, the warehouse, the music and the man.

~~~tsuzuku


	4. Spirit

Nocturne

By Ekai Ungson

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura copyright CLAMP and other related enterprises. 

Notes: Welcome to where a plot actually begins! We get… Eriol with a concussion! Tomoyo with a day job! A rather funny story involving a flight of stairs! And other such madness. ^-^

It wasn't his damned fault, really.

But that morning Eriol woke up entwined with a pile of bodies still in the pier warehouse. Everyone present, which was still a substantial number of people, had been knocked out and were in various positions draped over the seats, or tables, and some were lying on the floor.

He blinked a few times, found his cell phone, his car keys, and left the place. His head was pounding, but he managed to get to his condominium building with eliciting very little fear from innocent civilians. 

In a fit of temporary insanity that he blamed the alcohol on, he didn't take the elevator and took his chances on the flight of stairs. Which would be good, had his unit not been on the fourteenth floor and was not that very long a way, and had he not been under the stupor of the worst hangover of his partying life.

And so, while walking up the stairs, studying each step on the way, he found himself entranced with one particular landing and—

Promptly fell asleep in the middle of the goddamn stairway, and as a result, fallen down five flights.

And now, he was in the hospital.

Eriol began cursing foully.

Quatro: Spirit

Normally, people found that Harley-Davidson motorcycles belonged to burly, tattooed men with full beards and leather outfits, with grease on their gloves and on their faces.

Normally, they found nurses to be kind-faced young women who talked in soft voices and wore immaculate white outfits.

Daidouji Tomoyo was a nocturnal party animal, who rode a Harley-Davidson, wore a leather jacket, and had a quip to every comment.

She was also one of the most capable nurses in the largest private hospitals in Tokyo.

Which only went to show how much people knew about normal. She parked the motorcycle and went to the nurses' locker room to change from jeans and shirt to her nurse's uniform, and had barely hung her coat up when the head nurse handed her a clipboard and said, "Patient, room 1021. The medication's in the basket."

Tomoyo went as instructed, picking up the wire basket containing some—whoa, pretty potent painkillers we've got here! Then she opened the door to 1021.

She was greeted with what could be classified as one of the bigger shocks of her life.

"… You?!"

~~~~

Eriol sat up and stared at the nurse that had just entered his room. Black hair, dark eyes, yep, it was her! He could barely believe it but it was definitely her. He recovered in a split-second.

"Our paths cross again," he quipped. Then he stared at her. "You're not happy to see me."

"Do I have reason to be?" Tomoyo returned as she approached the bed.

"Lots of women have enough reason to be happy. My face is enough reason," Eriol said.

Tomoyo rolled her eyes. "Somehow, I believe seeing you as you are now would somehow dampen their crazed lust for you." She looked at him. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Eriol flinched. "Those are harsh words for the disabled," he wailed mournfully.

She picked up the medical file. "… Hiiragizawa Eriol. Slight concussion, and a broken leg. A broken leg? Ouch."

"Thanks a lot for relating," he said dryly.

"I'm just saying," she replied. "Let me guess. You fell off a flight of stairs going up to your apartment because you were so damned drunk and refused to admit it. How correct am I?"

"Very," he intoned. "How do you know?"

"This isn't the first time I see a file like this," she shrugged. "Drunk much?"

"Can we not talk about this?" 

She shrugged again and reached for the clipboard. "Standard questions—when was the last time you had yourself checked out?"

He grinned. "All the time."

She glanced at him sidelong. "I meant medically."

His face fell. "Oh… I don't remember."

She turned back to the clipboard. "You take alcohol—duh, of course you do, because if you don't you wouldn't be here in the first place," and at that Eriol made a derisive little noise, and Tomoyo smiled sweetly at him.

"Do you do drugs? The illegal stuff?"

"No."

She turned to him, clearly doubtful.

"I really don't; stuff's revolting if you ask me," he said in a toneless voice.

She stared at him a few more seconds then reached for the wire basket. She selected a plump bottle and placed it on his bedside table. "Take one now and every eight hours. I'll check."

Then she wrote something down on the clipboard and turned to go.

"Later, Little Boy Blue."

Eriol's eyes narrowed. _Little Boy Blue?_

~~~tsuzuku


	5. Hijo de Diablo

Nocturne

By Ekai Ungson

DISCLAIMER: Card Captor Sakura copyright CLAMP and other related enterprises.

This is for Kay D. Chan. For some of the sanest reviews I have ever had the pleasure to read in my fanficcing life. Thank you. 

"I want the 1021 room shift."

"No way, I got that one first!"

"What do you mean, you got it first? I got it!"

"What?! Give me that—"

"Wait your turn!"

"Stop pushing!"

A loud whistle broke through. The volume was glass-shattering. The nurses turned to find out who it was, and sure enough, it was the Head Nurse, Miss Yoko.

Yoko snatched the clipboard from one of the befuddled nurses and looked it over. Then she turned back to her crew. "None of you is going to get this shift."

There was a half-hearted chorus of "whaaaaat".

Then, Tomoyo entered the nurses' station, pulling her hair back into a high ponytail.

Yoko set the clipboard directly in front of her. Tomoyo looked up. "Ma'am?"

"You get the 1021 assignment until he's checked out. Understood?"

Tomoyo nodded. Then she looked around. The other nurses avoided her gaze.

__

Oh. I get it.

Cinco: Hijo de Diablo

Tomoyo had thought that if she was scarce enough, she could avoid the 1021 assignment. Apparently, she'd been wrong.

Blue Eyes was a lady killer. In the one week he'd stayed in (he was free to go, really, but he insisted on being kept as if he were suffering from cancer) he had managed to enamor all the nurses in his department. It was annoying, Tomoyo thought, as she picked up the clipboard and the wire basket of medicine. 

She heard female giggling through the door of 1021. She stopped, rolled her eyes, and breathed. Then she turned the knob.

Sure enough, three nurses were fawning over Hiiragizawa Eriol. Tomoyo cleared her throat and they all looked at her. In her calmest voice she ordered, "Scat, all of you."

Blue Eyes gave the girls a charming smile before shooing them away, reassurances abundant. If this kept on any more, Tomoyo would swear that her eyes would roll all the way to the back of her head.

Eriol gave her a charming smile. She frowned.

"I figured you'd be here soon enough," he said winningly.

"Your half-assed attempts at seduction are useless against me, Little Boy Blue," she replied. "I'm only here because I'm the only nurse you haven't yet won over."

"Ah, but that'll change soon enough," he answered confidently.

Tomoyo turned to him. "Hiiragizawa-san. I take my job very seriously. I can poison you today if I wanted to. I'd be doing the world a favor. If you don't mind, I rather you didn't pull any of your tricks on me. They'd never work."

He put on a wounded expression. "I'm hurt, Tomoyo-san."

"And I could care," she said, pulling out a syringe and filling it. She swiftly found a vein in his arm and injected the fluid. The process didn't take five minutes. She turned to leave, but he grabbed her hand and refused to let go.

"Blue Eyes. I've got a job to do," she muttered in the calmest voice she could muster.

"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked.

"I am not avoiding you," she said. 

"Yes, you are."

"And even if I was, I'd have very good reason to."

"And what reason would that be?"

She looked at him. Looked at him for a very long time. Eriol flinched under the scrutiny.

"I don't like your type, Hiiragizawa."

And she walked away.

…

Not her type?

That was impossible! Hiiragizawa Eriol was everybody's type. He made sure of that. He spent a lot of time and money just so he could play the part of every girl's fantasy. And some… some… girl had the gall to claim that he, the one and only Hiiragizawa Eriol, was not her type?

When the door closed behind her, he found in himself a growing sort-of rage and sort-of fascination. What did this girl want, if it wasn't him?

He would have a lot of fun finding out.

~~~~

The next morning, when Tomoyo brought the usual medications prescribed to Hiiragizawa Eriol, he was still asleep.

It had to take a lot of energy to keep up the smooth act, she mused as she unscrewed the bottle cap of a bottle of pills. There was something about him that made her think of him as some sort of… there wasn't another word for it—gigolo. That he aimed to please any woman within arm's length, so they would, in turn, aim to please him.

Tomoyo filled a glass of water and set it down on the side table. Then she turned to look at her patient and promptly stopped thinking. 

Later, she would tell herself that she stopped thinking because she wanted to stop thinking. Tomoyo liked to think she had control over her life and actions. Right now she only stopped and stared at the picture Blue Eyes made.

It was a very pretty picture, she had to admit.

He had dark circles under his eyes from too much booze and parties, but they had faded into a barely discernible gray. She remembered the first time she walked into his room and she could very well say that he had looked like hell. The absence of liquor in his system and secondhand smoke in his lungs had been doing him some good.

He was so very pale. She unconsciously took a quick peek at her own arm just to see if he could be any paler than her. And his dark hair was mussed all over his head, giving him a boyish sort of look.

She found that she liked him better like this—boyish and unkempt and totally vulnerable. The man had a tendency to bomb on her every time he opened his mouth. He liked the sound of his own voice too much, she thought. Even if he was spouting absolute nonsense.

Before she could stop herself, she ran her fingers through his hair, brushed them away from his closed eyes. Then she turned around and walked out of the room.

And Eriol dreamt that he had been touched by an angel.


End file.
